


A Legacy Worth Nothing

by TwistedViolets



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Inheritance, Klaus Hargreeves Deserves Better, POV Multiple, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Luther Hargreeves, Sibling Bonding, Sober Klaus Hargreeves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:48:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24560317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwistedViolets/pseuds/TwistedViolets
Summary: The apocalypse has been avoided and Luther still doesn’t know how to handle everything...Klaus can agree.Or...Klaus has PTSD and no one told Luther...except someone did and he just wasn’t listening.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 286





	A Legacy Worth Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempts at third person omniscient, kinda? I’ve never written a story through more than one perspective so I had a great time writing this even if it isn’t perfect.
> 
> Please go easy on me~
> 
> |I haven’t typo checked this completely yet but I’m working on it...|

Luther couldn't cope well with everything. Not that anyone expected him to but himself. It's not like Allison wasn't pitying him or Vanya wasn't understanding.

They all knew he did what he did because he had to. He's the leader, he makes decisions and takes the fall for bad ones. He admitted he was scared for them; of Vanya and her great unfathomable power.

Admitting that was hard for him and even still he struggled with the aftermath. Five scolding his every move, Vanya jumping when he gets near, or even Allison keeping to herself more and more.

"Gonna lock one of us up again?" Diego often said in spite anytime Luther tried to be a leader. Tried to be what everyone needed right now.

Some kind of glue to hold them together; unfortunately, that's more Vanya than him now.

Luther buries himself in his father's study. Often sitting in the chair the old man once sat, running his hands along the wooden desk his father used to always lean on, and he can't help but know that he still hears his father's voice some times.

Telling him how perfect he is. A man without flaws; until he was turned into an ape, and the rest is history. His father couldn't even stand to look at him after that...

'You must always do what's best for the collective, Number One.'

He smiles to no one but a ghost of a man whom he used to hold to a higher regard than god. A man who often portrayed himself without flaws. A man who...betrayed his trust.

X

"To be fair I think death would actually be worth while if it was more like Beetle Juice," Klaus picked at bacon on his plate, moving it around to arrange it like the lips of a smiley face before sliding his two eggs into place as eggs.

"That movie is death on crack," Ben said with a shrug of his shoulders, shifting in the opposite booth as his hood fell off his head and pooled near his neck. 

"And what? I liked it, sue me if you can." 

"You're soo funny."

He smirks as he devours his bacon, which he's always thought tasted strangely like dog food. Probably a bad trip during his homeless saga which goes unremembered.

He eats on anyway though, it isn't like he's got much to complain about. Just him out here enjoying life, spending his inheritance (Whatever he could sell of Reggies that didn’t contain any extremely important documents...haha what kind of idiot would do that?) and trying his best to avoid anything starting with D and rhyming with rugs.

Easier said than done but he's managing.

"When's the last time you washed your vest?"

"Can't you hear you over my self deprecating thoughts."

Ben buries his nose in a book, eyes ever so often looking over the top of it; making a few strange motions with his eyebrows to express his disbelief at Klaus's lifestyle.

Eating, sleeping, and avoiding reality.

”I think I’ll invest in a new skirt,” he hummed as he licked a few crumbs from just below his bottom lip.

X

It's the sixth time this month that Luther has stumbled upon Klaus looting something from the house. In someplace deep inside himself, he knows that he shouldn't protect his father's possessions. Not these knickknacks that littered most rooms and old art pieces that have been dusted by their mother religiously for years.

But, as the saying goes, old habits die hard. What's he supposed to do? Just let everything His father had ever worked for-whether he was a good or bad father aside- be sold off to shady pawnshops? As if he could do that- should do that- this is his father's legacy...

The thought bothers him for some reason. Maybe somewhere deep down realize that his father didn't realize or he did and just didn't care that these children he was raising were his legacy. They were going to outlive him and tell stories of his great cruelty and yet, he never once flinched in his iron grip.

Even though his father cared about appearances and hierarchies and power he didn't seem to ever give a thought about his legacy.

He truly finds himself wondering what his father thought of them...

"Klaus," he was tired of watching Klaus stuffing glass jars in his pants. What was Klaus going to do with that money anyway? Spend it on drugs and alcohol...even though he's been preaching that he's sober for the last month and a half.

What a joke.

X

The glass clicks together as he jolts from Luther's booming voice. It echoes across the living room, cutting deep into the silence that had previously been, when he was scouting his surroundings to see what he should steal next.

The jars had swirls of pink in them and he knew they had been made with 'real human remains.' Although his father never specified whose ashes were inside...he had suspected it was a little girl of about seven who hated bright lights for unknown reasons.

"Luther my bro- my big muscled statue of pure ape-" he makes an exasperated movement as he stands and Luther continues to advance on him-"hormones and hairy bits."

"Give em here," Luther put his hands out expectingly. He looked at the hand, much bigger to his own in comparison, and wondered how many times he had felt it around his neck, squeezing the very breath out of him for mere little whispers of a differing opinion.

"I don't know what you mean," he sneers, looking away before letting a whistle leave him. Up and down notes and Luther's hand twitches.

"The glasses, Klaus. You can't have them."

"And why is that? It's my down payment for that wonderful little inheritance that I'm sure I'm rightfully owed!"

"Klaus," it's a harsh tone, one that sends him reeling into an uncomfortable place of his mind. One that's unknown to him outside of his nightmares of battlefields and blood. 

So much blood.

"Klaus?"

The tone shifts, it sounds like concern but it's far away. So very far away compared to the yells of his Lieutenant telling them to duck in the trenches. And well- it's instinctive. He crouches quickly, his bottom hitting his ankles with a crackle as his hands come up over his head.

"Hey- what's wrong? Klaus- Klaus!"

Dave's hand comes to his head, peeling his hands away. A sweet smile to those ghostly lips as they open. "I thought I told you not to do that anymore?"

He can't say a word.

Then the battlefield shifts and below him instead of rocky dirt it's floorboards that are all but unusual. Hands are on his and Luther is talking to him, yelling in concerned whispers but honestly, he was sure he was dreaming.

X

"Klaus please hey...I didn't mean it. I didn't-please!" Luther stops Klaus's hands from digging into his scalp and pulling out any more hair than he already has. "Please stop! I don't care about the stupid glasses you can keep them for all I care. I'm so sorry-" it's all his fault again.

He's always hurting people. He's always letting everyone down. He's so stupid and naive and innocent and- oh no he's rambling. He's losing it.

"Klaus?"

He pulls Klaus closer, registering the sudden breath on his neck that was slow, barely even a breath at all. Klaus wasn't breathing right and he doesn't know what to about it. 

Something, Diego said something to him about this. Before Diego left, before he went back to his vigilante life he told Luther to 'Watch over Klaus,' and something else but he just can't remember anymore.

"It's...please."

'Klaus has...he's been through a lot Luther. I know you couldn't possibly comprehend what it's like to go through war or lose someone important but please be good to him. Treat him better cause he deserves a break...he's changed. He's not the same Klaus we could push around like an unfeeling bag...he's sensitive. In fact, I have a feeling he's probably developing some sort of PTSD-' god fuck, right.

He pulls Klaus into a hug and finally gets some sort of response. A gurgled inhale of breath, perhaps one of a man about to cry, and he just wraps his hands around his brother and holds him tight. 

This is all he knows to do.

"I won't tell you I understand because I don't. I can't possibly understand what you've been through but I want to. I want to know all the things I've been neglecting all these years because you're important to me and-"Klaus's hands grab onto his back, pulling himself deeper into his chest as he begins to cry-"just know you aren't alone anymore. You never have to be again."

X

It's all too much. Being brought into Luther's arms, suddenly turning his battlefield into his home, into his brother's embrace. He doesn't know when he started crying, he just knows he is and he isn't even going to address it.

It...it's all he can do.

_You never have to be alone again..._

He forces himself deeper into Luther's embrace hiding away his tears and just lets his brother's big arms wrap around him and drown him. He can't breathe like this but he can hear his brother's heartbeat, loud, clear, and so very comforting.

His brother is alive. His heart is beating for him.

He is sobbing so hard his voice gets caught up in his throat and he can't even mutter a thank you but he wants to. He's never thought he'd ever get an apology from Luther or that declaration of...support. It's so much more than he ever knew he wanted in life.

"Thank you so much," he blabbers but his voice is muffled against Luther and he can't inhale and his face is turning hot as more tears kiss his cheeks. "Luther I...just thank you," he pats Luther's back and his brother lessens his grip-enough that he can look up to his brother.

His big brother had changed so much from the leader who sought perfection when they were younger. The leader who needed to be told that he was smart, the best, Number One.

The leader who was strung along with words of praise and lowly signs of affection from a man who otherwise could care less.

"I...I don't want to talk about it but...someday I'd like to."

Luther nods, hands still around him loosely, still there so he could feel his brother's warmth...and in some places he could feel veins throbbing, blood rushing through his brother who is alive. So very alive and he knows his brother cares about him.

X

"Oh-" Klaus looks at him surprised almost as his hands wandered to his pants before he pulled out two small glasses and held them out for him. "Sorry I was taking these. You can have them back. I don't really need the money or anything," He laughs, his smile conflicting so heavily with the tear stains on his cheeks and the red puffy eyes.

"Keep them."

Klaus looks shocked, maybe, something of the like. "No Luther...I know how much of an attachment you still have to these things. I don't need the money I said. I was just gonna buy some stupid skirts."

He doesn't have an attachment to them...okay so maybe he does. They have sentimental value. They are things his father used to tell him about, with his voice so opening as he told of his adventures and well his father could be convincing when he wanted to be.

"You don't have to steal anymore. We're a family- I know dad left me all the money but I'm not like him. He's not here to tell me what to do anymore and I'm certainly not going to hoard it. If you ever want anything all you have to do is ask- no not even. I'll get a second debit card made for you."

Klaus rubs his hands over his wet cheeks as he begins to laugh. "Stop Luther, you're spoiling me! That's too much."

"I'm not spoiling you." 

Klaus laughs before glancing to his side. "He totally is, isn't he?" He said to some unknown shadow, Ben he knows now, believes now. Any doubts he once had have been put to sleep.

His brother isn't the most functional being but he makes it work. Just like the rest of his dysfunctional family.


End file.
